Tezuka, Ryoma, and the Advent of Facebook
by sleepy cities
Summary: Repost and edit from livejournal. Facebook and Ryoma facilitate Tezuka's emotional growth. Pillar!


_Summary: The internet facilitates Tezuka's social and emotional growth_

_Notes: There are some discontinuities in the ATP calendar/ probably cannon. Set post-series._

_Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with PoT, Peter Bodo, Kei Nishikori, Maria Sharapova, Andre Agassi, and the batches of all ATP players or the ATP._

* * *

**Tezuka, Ryoma, and the Advent of Facebook**

When Tezuka Kunimitsu wakes up in the morning, he receives an email from Facebook alerting him that Fuji has added him as a friend.

Tezuka spends too much time with Fuji as it is, like he needs more encouragement for Fuji to make snide jokes about his gay lavender shirts or dedicate his 5 page essays about James Buchanan wearing gay lavender shirts and being in love with his young senator or hear a million comments about pedastery. He's lucky to only have one class with him as it is, like he wants to extend their relationship to "social networking."

Tezuka joins Facebook anyway. It's the only way to see old Seigaku pictures without having to ask. Plus, everyone and their mother are on it. No really, he's seen his mom and dad playing Mob Wars.

Of course, three minutes later before he has a chance to set his security settings, he finds that somehow he is friends with Fuji through some sort of hax.

Instantly, Atobe friends him. Tezuka is only mildly surprised when he sees his religious views are not listed as "The Holy Trinity of Ore-sama, Ore-sama, and Ore-sama, but decides he can't stomach anymore and clicks Oshitari's profile as an excuse to view another page when he sees Atobe's activities are listed as basking in his own greatness described in 100 different ways. Some of them are good, a credit to Atobe's copyeditor, but he really doesn't need to read more.

Atobe's request is followed by one from Shudo Satoshi, whoever that is. Facebook is disturbingly extensive, Tezuka thinks before setting his profile as private. And addictive, he thinks as he clicks the profile of someone he's never met before. It continues like that, once he reads one profile, he reads another. With each progressive profile he views, he tells himself that it will take less time to do his history reading for class discussion tomorrow.

* * *

Without thinking, Tezuka lists his favorite quote as, "mada mada dane." That's all he has to say about facebook as it is, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop browsing.

The rest of his profile is sparse, due to what little information he deems to be public domain, but he still lists his interests and activities as tennis. Anything could get back to him in any form, so he wants to make his online presence as non-descript as possible. Still, he adds Seigaku as a network with a fair bit of pride.

* * *

Fuji sends him an IM:

CallowCacti: ^_^

REchizen: Che

Three minutes later, Tezuka receives an email alerting him that Ryoma Echizen (Brandenton, Florida) has added him as a friend. He tries to make himself wait three minutes before friending him back, just in case Ryoma knows he's online. He doesn't want to seem desperate. He also wants to be punctual, so he friends him as soon as 3 minutes has elapsed. After all, as the professor of the class he TAs for says, "Time theft is still theft." He wills himself not to think about whose time he's wasting.

* * *

Ryoma's at Bolleteri Tennis Academy now. Nick Bolleteri's Academy is what taught Agassi return as fluidly as he does and Maria Sharapova bash the ball like an aeroplane. Ryoma is going to learn something wonderful under those brilliant sunsets. He's going to learn the difference between an amateur and a pro.

When Tezuka conjures up Brandenton, Florida in his mind, he thinks of beautiful boys and beautiful beaches. He coughs to prevent his throat from tightening when he thinks of all of those tall beautiful boys without glasses he saw when he was invited for a promotional visit. If he accepted the invite at 12 and met Ryoma there 6 years later, would Ryoma look at him the same way he looked at those boys? Maybe Bolleteri made all of those tall and beautiful boys without glasses tall and beautiful, too.

But maybe not, because Ryoma's always been beautiful. And he certainly didn't need some overpriced tennis academy to be beautiful.

* * *

In Ryoma's profile picture, there's another boy: Nishikori Kei--the boy who would be a prodigy if not for Ryoma. He's better and younger than anyone Japan has ever seen except for Ryoma, but Ryoma's such an unprecedented outlier in the graph of Japanese tennis, that he wouldn't be able to wrap his head around Ryoma's success if he didn't actually see the progression for himself.

Tezuka knows that even though Ryoma lost to Nishikori in Doha, he has a counter for every aspect of Nishikori's developing game and most likely always will, but that doesn't help Tezuka from noticing the clear rivalry shared between the two. Tezuka wonders if they call each other by their first names because they both live in America. If being transient beings makes them closer. Or if Ryoma ever looks up to him like someone he needs to beat.

Kei has a strong, fluid game, but Tezuka thinks he could smash him into dust, even though Nishikori beat Blake when Tezuka couldn't, even if it was a friendly match. Even if there's no such thing as a friendly match for Tezuka. Tezuka just knows he can beat Nishikori, he knows that there's more to tennis than match-ups. And when it comes to intangibles, Tezuka has him beat.

Ryoma smiles gamely at Nishikori. Not that familiar smirk everyone is familiar with, but something else. In the curvature of Ryoma's lips and locked eyes he can see competitive companionship. Maybe that's what's so different about Ryoma; Seigaku has taught him to become socially able. Tezuka doesn't know whether to be proud or feel like he's been left to the dust. All he knows is that he can and will smash Nishikori someday.

* * *

Ryoma's profile is as he knows him. No words, personal information, just his address, and an infinite wall of posts. What a familiar dynamic--thousands of people seeking to get close to Ryoma and Echizen offering nothing in return.

He notes that Ryoma puts his first name before his last. Part of being American he supposes, but he always liked having the softness of Ryoma's first name in comparison to his last as a secret to himself.

* * *

Tezuka brushes his teeth and washes his face for bed and morning as though he'd actually gone to bed, and not spent hours cycling through the same 147 (5 are private) pictures on Ryoma's profile. He changes into his pajamas too, as though someone like Inui or Fuji was watching him and would be able to tell by the state of his laundry that he's been up all night. When his alarm clock (he set it sometime around cycle five) tells him it's time for lecture, he gets up dutifully, understanding for the first time how students allow their personal lives interfere with coursework so easily. He may be just too tired to care that he's going to be virtually silent in discussion lecture for the second time in a week.

In his haste to prepare for class in an hour, he forgets to delete his internet history. He thinks about it all through class, thinks about how he's going to return to that reminder, like cigarettes in an ashtray, when he gets back and passes out from lack of sleep. You can't win everything, he tells himself.

His email tells him that Ryoma sent him a wall post. He drums his fingers on his mouse in an effort to repel his palpitations--Ryoma's always had a way of getting to him just by turning his eyes on him with certain looks or a few sparse words. The post alone is innocent. He can imagine Ryoma saying it, "coming to join me soon, buchou," in his spacy, breathy voice.

On his wall, the words are laden with innuendo and implication. He doesn't respond. He can't. He repeats the question every day in next week. It isn't until Ryoma posts, "i will just assume you're joining me in the next tournament then," that he realizes it's something he can't ignore. Ryoma isn't going to let him ignore it. More importantly, he's always prided himself as a man who met every challenge. He's ignored things which he felt were beneath him, but Ryoma isn't beneath him by any means.

For a moment, before he gathers, then regathers himself, he suspends reality and ponders the logistics of that (im)possibility. His next tournament is the Rome Masters on the reddest of red clay. Tezuka dreams: He would beat Federer in the first round as a wild card and use his ability to know more about his opponents than they do him to make the final and Ryoma would beat Nadal. Ryoma would win in 5 blistering, marathon sets and would fall to his knees in joy, leaving imprints of red clay on his stark white tennis outfit and just as pale, but living knees. Later, Tezuka's sheets would have red clay residue, too. Later, he would forget the match ever happened and be spent in all sense of the word.

He still doesn't answer, turns his head from the monitor and keyboard so he can't see what he's typing, and asks Ryoma when he's coming home. Ryoma responds fast as ever and his monitor tells him the Japan Open is where he will see him next. He doesn't dream this time. He imagines.

Within hours, Tezuka's RSS feeds tell him that Echizen Ryoma, Australian Open finalist 2008 and 2007 US Open Winner, has requested a wild card into the Japan Open. Analysts criticize the move calling it detrimental to his attempts to catch Nadal at number one and journalists he's managed to piss off accuse Ryoma of being bought off with appearance wants to agree with them (except he would never doubt Ryoma's integrity) and reprimand Ryoma like it still matters, but instead sends him a picture of their old tennis court and a time. He can't wait.

* * *

Ryoma tags two tennis balls in a bathtub as Tezuka Kumimitsu and Ryoma Echizen with the comment, "because you needed more pictures tagged of you."

Tezuka comments back, "Stop facebook stalking me, Echizen." After all, Ryoma has no way of knowing his indiscretions, right? Ryoma replies, "you first." And Tezuka tries not to flush too much before reminding himself that Ryoma can't see him.

* * *

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Ryoma Echizen has poked Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Ryoma Echizen wrote on Tezuka Kunimitsu's wall:

"i win!"

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu has Super Poked Ryoma Echizen.

Tezuka Kunimitsu wrote on Ryoma Echizen's wall:

I had class. Don't get careless.

* * *

Atobe Keigo wrote on Ryoma Echizen's wall:

Ah, I see you deigned to respond to his greatness' generosity and make the right choice.

Ryoma Echizen wrote on Atobe Keigo's wall:

Yes, although writing on peoples' wall's first is it a bit plebeian for me.

Atobe Keigo wrote on Ryoma Echizen's wall:

Such audacity in the face of greatness will not go unpunished.

Atobe Keigo wrote on Ryoma Echizen's wall:

Answer me!

Atobe Keigo wrote on Ryoma Echizen's wall:

Do not offend me like this!

Ryoma Echizen wrote on Atobe Keigo's wall:

You're face is offensive enough, so that I don't have to offend you.

It continues like that on and on, and Tezuka thinks some things never change, except Ryoma's word count has increased dramatically. Maybe his theory about Ryoma being unable to speak in long sentences due to the breathiness of his voice is true.

He posts a sparse, "Fly, Echizen." and suddenly Ryoma's wall freezes. It's just his small comment there to remind him of his lack of discretion whenever he goes to Ryoma's page (which is often). He's come to terms with this after learning that facebook stalking is a common courtship ritual. He knows he's said those same words before, but it's as much to himself as it is to him. In his heart, in his dreams, he wants to remind himself that he can meet the challenge and fly with him too.

When Tezuka's newsfeed tells him Atobe Keigo posted on Ryoma Echizen's wall to stop deleting his posts, Tezuka can't help himself when he posts, "You should be kinder to your regent, even if he is of another species."

* * *

Tezuka sees the first bit of vanity in Ryoma when he posts a picture of him holding the Roland Garros trophy. It's his 3rd year in the final already and he's succeeded when nobody thought anyone could, to dethrone Nadal on his home court. The way he holds that ugly trophy, the way his eyes reflect in the polished nickel makes Tezuka's heart stop. It's been photoshopped for the media, he can tell, but no amount of sharpening and blur could detract from his luminosity.

Tezuka views each picture of Ryoma with a sense of ownership derived from his ability to pick up every minute flaw and see where he inconsistencies are. He can see in his otherwise alabaster skin--a darker top lip which makes his lower lip look even fuller, a light discoloration to his cheeks from sunburn which adds a bit of sweetness to his otherwise angular face, slightly uneven eyebrows waiting to be smoothed down--with great relish. Ryoma Echizen, 2009 Roland Garros Winner, virtually perfect and photographed in astoundingly high resolution, is not his Ryoma, but he's beautiful nonetheless.

"Oh Ryoma, how could you let me forget just how beautiful you could be," his mind tells his fingers, but instead he settles for posting "Nice form" on a stock picture of Ryoma serving where he can barely tell its him.

* * *

Ryoma lists his address on his profile. Tezuka wants to reprimand him for being so careless, but he knows deep down he hopes. He hopes he gets the courage. He hopes Ryoma hopes. He hopes he never hoped, but deep down he contemplates.

Tezuka contemplates appearing on Ryoma's doorstep one day. Ryoma carelessly left his address available for all to see. It's just a matter of a logistics, he has all he needs to know. He wonders how Nishikori would suck on that.

* * *

Someone posted a magazine picture of Ryoma. As his popularity grows, as does his page traffic. Every day, there are 100 new pictures and frankly Tezuka finds it hard to keep up, but his heart stops nonetheless when his news feed gets littered with Ryoma's face. He doesn't know how he manages to handle so many beautiful things at once. Tezuka supposes this is the ATP's way of generating fan interest in the midst of more marketable sports--selling sex.

Tezuka stares at Ryoma's long lashes and lined eyes, looking deceptively beguiling as if caught by surprise, but alluring nonetheless. He imagines a lot of coaxing was involved to get that perfect balance of innocence and sensuality. He imagines Ryoma fought as hard as he could before giving in. Making Ryoma not Ryoma is a miracle that takes more than just photoshop It takes a catalyst.

Of course, Marat radiates sexuality to the core in a way that makes Tezuka wish he was Russian. Together, they make a perfect composite--soft and hard--unified by the way their bodies form perfect lines in ways only truly athletic bodies can. He looks at Marat's arm, somehow low and easily slung over compact hips and thinks of what a strain that must be for Safin despite the nonchalance in his face. Tezuka feels a little jealous until he notices how disjointed Safin's large body is in order to frame Ryoma's slighter one for the composition of the picture.

He wants to scoff. Like Ryoma would get with someone that tall. His pride would simply not allow him to endure the height difference. Plus, his drop shot is laughable.

* * *

The first time Ryoma updates his profile to offer some aspect of himself aside from reticence, his favorite quotes say,

You should be in my space

You should be in my life.

Tezuka clenches, counts backwards from ten, and attempts to organize he thought into something safe: Does Ryoma miss his mother and father? Did he take his cat with him to Florida, on tour? Does Ryoma like American music? American hipster music? Well, that explains the haircut.

He eventually convinces himself that this quote is so aggressively unRyoma that it can be discarded due to lack of evidence. But the reality of things (aka the fact that the quote is there) doesn't stop him from downloading every Interpol song and creating subtext in every one, as though what was in front of him wasn't obvious enough.

Nor does it stop him from turning his head from the keyboard and monitor and changing his favorite quote to a German poem he found trapped in the bookshelves of his dormitory in Berlin. He tries to reproduce it in German, as a way of masking what he means to say, but sure enough, Ryoma reads through it.

He tries to be unsurprised when Ryoma's next quote is nicht bekommen, sorglos, German for don't get careless. Tezuka knows that he should find it promising or at least irregular that Ryoma is responding like this, but it's simply much more relaxing to be engrossed into another game with Ryoma.

He doesn't even have to turn his head to change his quotes are changed to nicht, nein, noch or mada mada dane in German as much as he can translate that ridiculous phrase. He does it in a smirk, which he imagines will be mirrored across the continent 6 hours later.

* * *

When Ryoma returns for the Japan Open, still cast in the glow of his Roland Garros win, he asks Tezuka for a match. Or rather, he asks Tezuka for the time in which their already determined to happen match will start and how much time he will have afterwards.

Tezuka's stunned by the realness of his physical presence outside of his mind and computer screen that he's a little bit off his game. Ryoma's taller, having gone from small to lithe, but Tezuka still has the height advantage. He shows his new elongated, tapered legs aren't just for show, when he's able to get to the ball faster, return with more preparation, and nearly hit Tezuka off the court. Tezuka is only able to keep up by pushing his limbs past their length, but still loses the tiebreak by a few off balance shots.

After the match, most of Tezuka's anxiety has subsided, but he can't help but feel a little rush of excitement when he prepares himself to volley back Ryoma's next message, only this time, it's in person.

Now that he is able to look at things outside of himself and his anxieties, he wonders if Ryoma feels nervous, too. It's not that he's more comfortable with the additional implications his and Ryoma's relationship holds, it's just that he's more willing to deal with it. Rather than his body shaking violently from within causing his appendages to thrum, he feels tiny reverberations like a violin bow--too minute to see, but displacing enough space to make a sound.

Of course, when Ryoma shows him on his iPhone that he set his status to, "Ryoma Echizen is going to be kissing Tezuka Kunimitsu," Tezuka feels heat rise to his face anyway.

When they kiss for the first time, it's such a foregone conclusion that the details don't matter. Ryoma already set his status and Tezuka doesn't want to make Ryoma liar.

* * *

The smashed glasses into Tezuka's forehead, the jammed noses, the ache in Ryoma's knees and the outright awkward angle that prevents any sort of penetration beyond a mingling of tongues are all forgotten in the inherent rightness of the act itself. When they breathlessly pull back, their hair is fucked and their noses, fingers, and skin ache from pushing too hard.

"Sorry," says Kunimitsu wearing messy glasses and a flush, "I've gotten too used to having you as a virtual presence, that I haven't put enough consideration in to the physical mechanics. But you've gotten taller, so we should have more options."

Ryoma arches an eyebrow as if to say mada mada dane, Inui and corrects their positions before pulling him down for another kiss.

* * *

Smiling, and admittedly feeling odd, Tezuka sets his status:

Tezuka Kunimitsu loves Ryoma Echizen.

Minutes later, he gets a notification:

Ryoma Echizen likes this.


End file.
